


Glory Glory Hallelujah

by Unforth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, Cock Slut Dean Winchester, DCJ Big Bang, Dirty Talk, Glory Hole, M/M, Meet-Cute, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 11:54:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: It’s been a hell of a week. Dean has never been more ready to blow off steam by blowing all comers.





	Glory Glory Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno I just really wanted to write a porny meet cute. Be aware that the Dean x others IS explicit and if you read between the lines you can probably figure out who most of them are supposed to be. :)
> 
> Beta'd by the fabulous Ltleflrt ([AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt) | [Tumblr](http://ltleflrt.tumblr.com/)). Thanks so much hun!
> 
> Artwork by blue-reveries ([AO3 - hey_you_with_the_face](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face) | [Tumblr](https://blue-reveries.tumblr.com/)) who stepped in to pinch hit in the eleventh hour and hit it out of the park. I'm so glad we got this chance to work together!

  


The shiver that trailed down Dean's spine had nothing to do with the familiar hard chill of the bathroom tiles grinding into his knees. He'd spoken to Benny yesterday about manning the hole today, and Benny had assured him that if he came early (Benny had guffawed at his unintended pun) Dean shouldn't have competition for the position.   
  
Dean had worried anyway.    
  
Service mouth at the local glory hole wasn't the most coveted position but the handful of men who wanted to blow all comers shared a certain enthusiasm and were voracious in pursuit of their preferred jollies. If Alfie wasn't working his regular job, he always got to Benny's first and took the spot, and then Dean was boned, and not in the fun way. Concern that he might be denied the relaxation and release of having his mouth fucked after his long, frustrating week didn't fade until he arrived and found the hole unmanned. Relief, anticipation, and pre-performance jitters made his hands shake, made his cock stiff against his jeans.    
  
Shifting to a more comfortable position, he lifted the flap that signalled the blow-er was "in." The hole, a perfect circle, showed a view of the next bathroom stall, far wall dingy and graffitied.    
  
How long before the view was blocked by hard dick? Even a minute's delay was torture. Dean wanted...he needed...he  _ had _ to...   
  
Dean took a deep breath in and sighed it out with a huff.   
  
There was nothing to worry about.    
  
Deep breath in.   
  
The week was over.    
  
Sigh it out.    
  
Next week might be better.    
  
Deep breath in.    
  
And if next week wasn't, there was always the following Friday night at Benny's.   
  
Sigh it out.    
  
After days of feeling like he was as insignificant as a bug - days of feeling he was nothing, that he didn't exist - Dean had all night to prove to himself and the bar patrons that he existed, hours to prove how much skill he had to offer and how much bliss he could spread in the world.    
  
Deep breath in.    
  
Eyes slipping shut, Dean leaned forward and lined his open mouth up with the familiar hole. He'd lost count of how many nights he'd done this, how many dicks he'd sucked, how many times his come had splattered the dingy but clean tiles. Benny kept a good bar, safe and well maintained, all the aesthetic appearance of seediness with none of the attendant risks. Dean loved being at Benny's, even if he was only there  for a drink. He loved looking at the regulars and wondering how many he'd sucked off. None of them knew it was him, and that secret knowledge was delicious to Dean, almost as delicious as the feel of dick thrusting between his lips.   
  
Soon...   
  
Desire roiled beneath his skin and he pressed a palm to his crotch to ease his erection into a more comfortable position.   
  
Dean was ready.   
  
The smell of latex gave Dean a moment's warning before a stiff, hot cockhead bumped against his lips. Corners of his mouth twisting into a smile, Dean let the man push forward, slackened his jaw, took the entire length. Need had him salivating; a thrill washed over him as the man bottomed out, bumped the back of Dean's throat, and groaned.    
  
"That's right, baby." The voice was unfamiliar. "You take that dick. Come on, take it." Dean knew the regulars, if not by name or face. "Bet your lips look great suckin' my cock." Their voices and dicks and preferred condom brands were etched in his hazy memories of dozens of liaisons. "Wish I could pound that pussy, too, make you beg for me." There were always new dicks, though - new men, and occasionally women, to pleasure, always the question of if this would be a one-and-done encounter or if today's first time dirty talker would join the catalog of partners Dean could recognize by the musky aroma of their crotch as they rutted against the bathroom stall wall. "Fuck, yeah..."   
  
To Dean's disappointment, the man thrust and came with a breathy moan. As quickly as the cock had slid into Dean's mouth, it was withdrawn. There was the rubbery sound of a condom being tugged off, the cascading whoosh of the man taking a piss, the  _ ka-chunk-chink _ of the stall garbage can being opened and closed, and the man left without so much as a "thank you." Scowling, Dean ran the back of his hand over his mouth to clear away the saliva that had leaked onto his chin. Dissatisfaction buzzed beneath his skin.   
  
_ Don't worry. It's early. There will be other dicks, many more dicks, before the night is done, and they won't all be attached to entitled assholes. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Though who can say what a dude like that is really like...talks a bullshit line about pussy while gettin' blown at a gay bar...acts like his cock can rock the Kasbah then comes like a dumb ass teen lookin' at Pam Anderson... probably straight, too, or pretending to be...and fuck, Pam Anderson, really Dean? I'm gettin' old. I-- _   
  
A knock on the dividing wall gave Dean a moment's warning before the next dick thrust into his mouth. This one was more familiar; Dean had mentally named him C because he always used cotton candy scented condoms. Dean appreciated the consideration. The artificial flavoring tasted like garbage but it was better than the rubbery stink of latex beneath his nose and coating his  tongue. He wished condoms weren't necessary, but--   
  
His throat twitched as he took C's dick deep, forcing his attention back to the moment. C preferred Alfie - not that the men knew the names or faces of who manned the hole, but as Dean learned the dicks of his regulars, so too the regulars learned the mouths of those kneeling on the other side - and Dean took C's preference as a personal challenge. C never gave Dean the satisfaction of admitting Dean had rocked his world, but Dean knew he succeeded. Groans and orgasms couldn't be faked. Dean loved a job with a simple, clear rubric for success.   
  
He sucked gently on C's cock and earned a hiss of appreciation.   
  
_ Let's do this... _   
  
Extraneous thoughts vanished. There was only Dean's mouth, his lips, his tongue, his throat, his palate and teeth and spit and suction and how he could use every tool in his arsenal to drive the man on the opposite side of the adjacent stall wild. Every groan he extracted was a reward, every orgasm infinitely more satisfying than the paltry bonus Dean's boss had doled out for the holidays. Dean didn't doubt that he could get paid to give blow jobs; he'd done it a time or two as a teen when he'd been hard up for cash. Dean approached dicks with the professionalism of an artist and an appreciation for the adage that "practice makes perfect." His mouth was the blow job equivalent of the damned Mona Lisa. Some of the men had even offered him money, to see him outside Benny's or to fuck him, but Dean always said no.   
  
Why should he ruin his hobby by turning it into work?   
  
His current position at Benny's was perfect. Low risk, low obligation, and extremely satisfying.    
  
Men came, and men went.   
  
C grumbled that Dean had been "adequate, barely" in his familiar British accent, but he stumbled as he left, weak-kneed with pleasure.   
  
R was distinctive, Dean's only black regular, her thick dark cock a contrast to her lush voice as she fucked into him enthusiastically - the combination was too specific for Dean not to have figured out which bar patron R was but for politeness sake he pretended ignorance and used the pseudonym initial.   
  
DR was a jackass, as usual, spewing insults the whole time as if he was too good for the service he so readily accepted.   
  
Benny came in for a quickie, and Dean gave him a little teeth - not something he included regularly but Benny liked things rough.   
  
A newbie proved a one pump chump.   
  
An old man went soft halfway through.   
  
The night was a comfortable mix of regulars and newcomers (and boy did they come!) and Dean floated on cloud nine. Euphoria buoyed him through every encounter, and aside from occasionally palming himself through his pants he let his erection persist. He could wait until he'd earned his orgasm through a night of hard work, and he never liked blowing guys as much after he came. With the edge of desperate need gone, it sometimes felt like a bother, like a job, and that would never do. He was comfortably numb, achy, horny, and he was ready to shut the club down at 3 am.   
  
The scent of raspberries suffused his nose and Dean opened his mouth to the best tasting condom he'd ever sucked on. The cock it covered wasn't bad either, short enough to fit comfortably in his mouth, thick enough to spread his lips wide. The man groaned deep, guttural appreciation and thrust into Dean's mouth gently.   
  
"You've got the sweetest mouth, beautiful..."   
  
_ Great, another asshole who assumes I'm a dame. _   
  
"...if I had you with me, you know what I'd do?'   
  
Dean rolled his eyes, the appeal of the well-proportioned cock and sexy voice fading.   
  
"Fuck, I don't know where I'd begin, I have so many ideas."   
  
_ Like you'd be here if you had anyone who appreciates your shit ideas, douche bag. _   
  
"Wish I could stroke your dick as you suck me down."   
  
Dean's train of thought careened off course. Startled, he swallowed, and the man moaned and continued, "You'd like that sweetheart? Oh, I'd make you feel so good - stroke that dick as you suck mine..." He pulled out... "...stroke..." ...thrust in... "...stroke..." ...pulled out... "...stroke..." ...thrust in.    
  
A wave of bliss surged through Dean as he imagined a grip around his cock. Fuck, but he wanted to touch himself, needed to touch himself. It had been hours. He could imagine the stranger with his tasty condom and awesome dick and sinful groans wrapping a strong hand around Dean's cock and palming him into oblivion. The fantasy was so vivid that Dean tingled at each imagined touch.   
  
"Or maybe I'd push you down, get your cock in my mouth, suck you off, let you suck me off, imitate your every move..."   
  
There was a sinful sucking sound that Dean knew too well, the pucker of lips and suction of cheeks around something solid - a finger probably, but Dean could easily imagine it was his dick. Many patrons praised him but none,  _ none _ , made him an actual party to whatever sexual fantasy they were getting off on. Struggling to keep his composure, Dean focused on his task, focused on the man's dick, thrust his face back and forth on it like he had no higher aspiration in the world than to get his face fucked.   
  
... _ let's be real, Dean, I _ don't  _ have any higher aspiration than to get my face fucked... _   
  
"That how you like it?" whispered the man. "I'd do you just like that, deep throat your leaking cock, drink down every drop...if you're good, I could slip this finger in your ass, finger your prostate--" Dean choked on the man's dick as he failed to repress a whimper. "...knew that would be up your alley...if you don't come when I suck you off, don't come when I milk you, I'll ride you when I'm done."   
  
That sounded suspiciously like a promise.    
  
Dean was embarrassed by how badly he wanted to hold the stranger to his word.   
  
"Gonna learn every trick to coax those pretty noises out of you."   
  
Dean hummed, sound vibrating through his mouth, and the man groaned, broken and desperate. His thrusts hastened, thunks and an accompanying vibration through Dean's lips suggesting hips enthusiastically slammed against the dividing wall.   
  
"Do that...do that again..."    
  
Strained speech betrayed the man's desperation. Dean wasn't sure which act the man wanted replicated so Dean combined several, humming, sucking, following the man's withdrawal so closely he clunked his nose on the wall.    
  
"Oh, hell."    
  
The man choked on another word, thrust unsteadily, and the condom swelled with come.    
  
Shuddering out a breath, Dean leaned back on his heels. Arousal buzzed through him. The cool bathroom felt sweltering. Dizzy, he watched as the cock he'd blown was withdrawn from the hole, already going soft in the sagging, pink-tinged condom.   


_ I think I'll call him Raspberry. _   
  
The next door stall opened and closed, and Raspberry was gone.   
  
_ I hope he comes again. And again and again and again. _   
  
Chortling at his joke, Dean waited for his next patron. He never knew if there was a line and never checked if anyone was waiting. Sometimes mere minutes passed in between, other times as long as a half hour, but on a busy Friday night - which this must be, judging by the sounds of the crowd Dean heard when the bathroom door opened - it was unusual for Dean to wait long. Sure enough, minutes after Raspberry left, a new cock slid through the glory hole. The scent of berry once more wafted through the air, the condom was tinged pink, and Dean flat-out disbelieved.

  
  
It couldn't be Raspberry again. At the outside, five minutes had passed.  _ No one _ had that good a refractory period.   
  
_ Next dude in line probably forgot condoms and borrowed one. That's gotta be it. _   
  
Dean hadn't seen Raspberry's dick erect, so couldn't judge by sight if this one was was a match, but by feel...? He leaned forward, wrapped his lips around the cock, salivated at the tart berry taste, and sucked the dick down his throat.   
  
It was  _ definitely _ Raspberry.   
  
No two cocks on the planet could fit that perfectly in Dean's mouth.   
  
"Aw, shit, that's the stuff," groaned Raspberry.   
  
_ Geeze, if I had someone who got hard again that fast, I wouldn't have to kneel here fucking my knees up to suck cock all night long. _   
  
"Wish I could see those pretty lips of yours wrapped 'round my dick...your mouth is fricken  _ made _ for fucking, ain't it, babe?"   
  
For the first time in the four years since Dean had started doing this,  _ he _ wished a John could see his pretty cock-sucking lips, too.   
  
Their encounter was a repeat of minutes before. Raspberry talked dirty like it was his job. Dean had never been so high on a client. Raspberry was full of delicious ideas - "suck you down, jam a vibrator in your pretty ass, fuck you while I massage your back, race to suck you off faster than you can suck me off" - and fucked Dean's mouth like some damn tireless machine. Dean palmed himself throughout, letting his desire simmer, humming out his satisfaction, delighting in every rapturous groan he earned through his efforts.   
  
"Fuck, my brother said you were the best, but I had no fucking idea..."   
  
_ I wonder which of my regulars is his brother... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...maybe I can give the pair a family discount...two for the price of one...double free is still free but it's way more fun with three... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...never have tried to fit two cocks in my mouth at once... _   
  
Dean feared Raspberry would go soft part way through - he had just gotten off, after all - but he needn't have worried. Round 2 lasted longer than round one, the orgasm harder to induce, but when Raspberry came he collapsed against the wall and slid to the ground, dragging his cock out of Dean's mouth and gasping out breathy praise.   
  
"...fuckin' amazing...anyone told you you're perfect? Gonna call you...call you sweet lips...wish I could lick my come outta your mouth..."   
  
Another first - no one had every given Dean a nickname before. The consideration brought a warm glow to Dean's chest. He wasn't just a mouth to Raspberry, but a partner worthy of a pet name.    
  
...okay, yeah, he was just a mouth, but he was a mouth worth naming, and worth arousing - he was an equal in the blow job exchange, not a willing dick receptacle, not a fleshlight that happened to salivate and breathe, and Dean was surprised by how gratifying the distinction was. The usual clatters of the garbage opening and closing, the squeak of the stall door lock being tugged, the patter of hard-soled shoes crossing the tile floor, told the sad story of Raspberry leaving.   
  
An ache of longing settled into Dean's chest. Raspberry had been gone seconds and Dean...Dean missed him.   
  
How bizarre.   
  
_ It's too much to hope he'll get it up for round 3, but maybe he'll come back to the bar sometime? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Sometime soon? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Tomorrow maybe? _   
  
Raspberry preoccupied Dean's thoughts as the next man took his turn. Douche nozzle, so named because he was a douche and always smelled like gasoline, was as douchey as ever. Usually, Dean's sense of professionalism meant he gave a quality BJ even to assholes but now he was too distracted to manage a performance any better than dilatory.    
  
"You fucking slut," snarled Douche Nozzle's deep voice, "A disgusting whore, like you should be thanking Jesus for the chance to suck my dick."   
  
_ Why should I put up with this crap just for the chance to swallow down a cock? What's the point when Raspberry is out there in the club, with his awesome voice and perfect dick and A+++ recovery time and sweet, sweet promises? _ _  
_ _  
_ _...if, somehow, I found him, and told him who I was, would he actually follow through on what he said? _   
  
"Filthy, used, disease-ridden harlot..."   
  
... _ or would he, like Douche Nozzle, think I'm no better than a prostitute? _   
  
The thought dampened Dean's enthusiasm further. Only sheer determination kept him bobbing his head until Douche Nozzle came, spouting some bullshit about Dean being sanctified by his come. Dean hated Douche Nozzle at the best of times but he had never been happier to hear the man leave, and never less excited to find out who was next. Approaching steps, the close of the door, and the plastic  _ zzzt _ of a condom wrapped being torn open told him he'd not have a long wait to find out.   
  
A pink-tinged condom clad cock, achingly familiar, pushed through the glory hole.   
  
Raspberry was back.   
  
_ Again _ .   
  
If Dean's lips had just been sanctified, this must be his hail Mary.    
  
Glory, glory, hallelujah.    
  
Spreading his mouth wide, Dean encompassed Raspberry's dick and took him deep with a single swallow.   
  
"Fuck..." murmured Raspberry, so softly Dean had trouble hearing him. "Only been a few minutes but I missed you, sweet lips."   
  
_ Missed you, too, Raspberry _ ...   
  
Sighing out tension, Dean relaxed as Raspberry stood still and let Dean work into a slow, steady rhythm. No thrusting, this time. Dean did all the work, lavished Raspberry's dick with affectionate kisses and licks, puckered his lips and sucked and blew. Raspberry didn't bother with dirty talk; instead he moaned his appreciation of Dean's extra effort, mumbling gentle praise and encouragement.   
  
"Yeah...yeah, that's good...that's great...wish I had you all to myself...wish we could do this all night long..."   
  
Fuck, but it was like Raspberry was reading Dean's damn mind. Every word was an echo of the fantasies unreasonably spinning out in Dean's thoughts. Instead of solid tiles beneath his aching kneecaps, there'd be a soft pillow. Instead of isolation in a walled bathroom stall, there'd be large, strong hands on Dean's head, fingers tangled in his hair, skin brushing against his. Instead of a wall muffling the voice of his lover, Raspberry's precious words would be clear and genuine and perfect, and just for Dean, all for Dean.    
  
He loved being used, loved having his mouth fucked roughly, loved being treated as an object.   
  
But hell if he didn't love feeling cherished, too.   
  
It had been so long since anyone had made Dean feel special.   
  
"I'm so close, sweet lips, so close..."   
  
Dean was close too, hovering on the tingly, overheated edge of orgasm. He had a hand over his cock that he didn't recall putting there, his hips working up from the ground. The movement was slight but plenty adequate to stimulate him into oblivion. Sucking on the head of Raspberry's cock, Dean pulled himself back and slapped his hands on either side of the glory hole, venting his frustration in a growl.   
  
With a stuttering moan, Raspberry came, the condom inflating against Dean's lips.   
  
"You are too fucking good at that," said Raspberry contentedly.   
  
"Thanks," said Dean. He couldn't keep regret from his voice. Raspberry was done and would leave again, and surely wouldn't return that night.   
  
_ Abort, abort, do _ not  _ talk to the John. _   
  
"Don't worry, sweet lips. I'll be back soon."   
  
_ But he wants me, wants me like I want him. How does he keep reading my mind? Am I that fricken obvious? Or is he as desperate for more as I am? I want...I want... _   
  
"Dean," he croaked. There was dead silence.   
  
_ I want to see him, to know him. I want this to be real. _   
  
"My name is Dean."   
  
Dean's heart beat so loudly he couldn't hear over the thudding. Why had he said that? It's not like he had a common name. The odds there were any other regulars at Benny's named Dean were nil; certainly Dean had heard of none. Raspberry didn't answer, hadn't moved, so stunned by Dean's outrageous over-sharing that his poor cock dangled flaccid and awkward through the hole. What was said in the heat of passion was a far cry from what people would say and do normally. That Dean didn't know that after giving a few thousand BJs was pathetic. He should be ashamed of himself,  _ was _ ashamed of himself, and--   
  
"Jimmy," said Raspberry.   
  
\--and Raspberry  _ did _ want what Dean wanted.   
  
_ Oh _ .   
  
"Nice to meet you, Dean."   
  
Raspberry's... _ Jimmy's _ ...cock withdrew from the hole.   
  
"I won't be gone long,  _ Dean _ . Promise."   
  
There was the  _ ka-chunk, ching _ of the garbage opening and closing and then Jimmy was gone, leaving behind the warm glow of unjustified hope and intoxicating pleasure that had Dean more buzzed than a fifth of Jack could have done.   
  
Dean couldn't have described his next customer. He thought them a regular but he was too euphoric to read the cues to tell him who. It wasn't Jimmy. Dean was shocked by how quickly one man had eclipsed all others he'd ever serviced. Maybe it was the spell the evening cast, the delusion of the moment. Maybe after he rubbed one out, soaked his aches in an aromatic bath, and slept the night, he'd wake to realize he'd behaved the fool. He should never have given his name, but in light of Jimmy's return of intimacy, Dean had no regrets. On the contrary, he was bewitched by the possibility that Jimmy might come back for round four, might moan *Dean* in thanks for Dean's mindful attentions, might--   
  
"Thanks." A tenor voice interrupted his thoughts. The dude had come. Dean had run so completely on autopilot he hasn't noticed.    
  
_ I am so fucked _ .   
  
Dean's ass clenched around nothing.   
  
... _ yes, please and thank you? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Listen here, you fuckwad, I have got to get it together. It's only midnight. I've got three hours left and god knows how much more junk to suck down and I've been looking forward to this all week and Raspberry is hot as fuck but only one dude who would probably deny knowing me if he ever actually met me and... _   
  
...and a cock in a pink-flushed condom slid through the glory hole...   
  
... _ and Jesus fuck he's back _ .   
  
Dean loved what he did but never had he descended on a dick with so much enthusiasm.   
  
"Please..." Jimmy moaned.   
  
_ Anything. Anything you want if you'll keep even one of your filthy promises. _   
  
Shit, that was a scary thought. Dean meant it, without reservation.   
  
"...please...keep your head right there...wanna fuck your perfect mouth, Dean..."   
  
Screw it. Dean was  _ gone _ . He couldn't stop his visceral reaction, his Goddamn animal magnetism, so he might as well embrace it - or, rather, suck it. Taking Jimmy all the way into his mouth, Dean puckered his lips against the wall, making a rounded O for Jimmy to thrust into, and thrust he did. The wall shook, the cock moved so vigorously that Dean's lips tingles with friction, and Jimmy sounded gone. And no wonder; bless his kinky heart, he was hard for a fourth time in maybe an hour and change. Dean wrapped his hands around his knees and clenched them so tightly that his nails dug into the skin through his jeans.    
  
_ Why am I fighting how much I want this? _   
  
"Oh...oh God, that feel so damn good, Dean...Dean!"   
  
_ Jimmy's come three times, not to mention all the other dudes I've gotten off. _   
  
"...want...want you, really want you..."   
  
' _ sides, it's about time for my break. _   
  
"...wanna touch you, wanna see you touch yourself..."   
  
_ The whole point of this glory hole gig is that's it's not an obligation. I go as long as I feel like it and stop when I don't want to any longer. _   
  
"...wanna watch your face, see you flush, feel your heat..."   
  
_ No harm in taking care of myself... _   
  
"...wanna taste my dick on your lips, wanna smell your desire..."   
  
Dean unzipped his pants and slid his hand through the opening, rising up on his knees to facilitate his access. His cock was achingly hard, the first touch of his fingers against it painful. There was no waiting for his over-stimulation to fade. Dean  _ needed _ .   
  
"...wanna...wanna fuck you senseless..."   
  
Jimmy  _ needed _ too.   
  
Fricken wow.   
  
Desperate, Dean stroked himself, matching the frenetic pace of Jimmy's thrusts.   
  
"...wanna mark you up, call you mine, tell all those assholes out there that this hole--" he thrust against Dean's mouth in emphasis. "--is closed for business."   
  
Groans and growls punctuated Dean's strokes. He couldn't help himself, he was so gone - had to be gone, had to touch himself here and now and so obviously, had to make it clear to Jimmy how effected he was. He never let the patrons know he was masturbating, never gave them the power over him that they'd gain by knowing they aroused hum. This was different - Jimmy was different - and Dean needed--   
  
"...fuck me, Dean..."   
  
\--Dean needed--   
  
"...wanna hear you sob my name..."   
  
\--Dean needed--   
  
"...need you..."   
  
\--Dean  _ needed _ \--   
  
"Gonna come for me, sweet lips?"   
  
With a groaned "Jimmy," Dean jerked back from the glory hole and came, semen streaking his hand and making white lines over his jeans.    
  
"Holy hell, Dean."   
  
_ Shit, shit, shit, I didn't, I should have... _   
  
Trying to gather himself, Dean focused his tear-blurred vision on the hole before him, trying to force his languid, loose body to obey him so he could finish Jimmy's blow job.   
  
Jimmy's dick sagged, rubber loose with come.   
  
Either Dean had gotten Jimmy off at the last and hadn't noticed, or...   
  
...or hearing Dean come had pushed Jimmy over the edge.   
  
Dean groaned as an after shock rocked his world.   
  
Jimmy came listening to Dean? That was too fucking hot.   
  
"Do you do that for all your patrons?" asked Jimmy gruffly.   
  
"Only for you." Dean admitted the simple truth.   
  
_ Fuck! _   
  
"Oh."   
  
_ I am absolutely sucking at the "this isn't personal, this is anonymous, don't get attached" part of this gig. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Hehehe, absolutely sucking... _   
  
Dean grinned stupidly.   
  
Dean was relaxed and replete.   
  
Despite the warning bells sounding in his head, Dean felt...satisfied. Pleased. Good about what he'd done and what he'd said.    
  
Jimmy's silence was unnerving.   
  
_ Gotta get over these dumbass nerves, Jimmy obviously digs me back. Try to have a little faith... _   
  
Jimmy's heavy breathing shook the wall between them. Jimmy wasn't upset. Jimmy was exhausted, understandably, slumped on the other side of the thin barrier dividing them.   
  
_ I could get up, open the stall door, knock on his, come face to face with him... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...be real, I'll come in whatever position he wants me to come... _   
  
"Um...I like you too. Dean. I should...I should go. But I'll be back!" The last was added so hastily that Dean hadn't a qualm.    
  
_ I don't need to meet him outside this setting. _   
  
Jimmy would be back.   
  
... _ and I'll be here. _   
  
Dean knelt through another blow job, and another, and another, anticipating Jimmy's return. He needed a break to clean himself up, piss, and grab a bite of dinner, but he was afraid he'd miss round five if he ducked out. An embarrassingly loud stomach rumble mid-deep throat forced him the acknowledge the situation was growing sure. Dean had to eat something other than dick. Whoever was waiting to be blown, even Jimmy, would have to keep waiting. As soon as the man who'd suffered through Dean's hungry noises was done, Dean lowered the flap that indicated the hole was closed for business and rose slowly to give his stiffened joints time to unkink.    
  
_ It'll take more than some stretches to unkink me... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...damn, I'm just full of sex puns tonight... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...rather be full of something else... _   
  
His stomach burbled to suggest what he'd  _ really _ like to be full of was a cheeseburger and some beer. He waited until the bathroom was vacant before he left, taking the long way down the hall, through the emergency exit, and back around to the front of the dive. No one looked at him twice, so his precautions were likely unnecessary, but he didn't want to be found out as the service mouth.   
  
... _ unless it's Jimmy finding out _ ...   
  
"Evenin', brother," Benny drawled, shouting to be heard over the music, as Dean sat in a stool before the bar. "Want your usual?"   
  
"Hell yeah." Dean's voice was raspy, his throat dry from hours of abuse.    
  
Benny plonked a beer before him and Dean chugged it, grateful both for the booze and for the tall ice water chaser Benny offered as a follow up. Thirst quenched, he swiveled the chair around and surveyed the crowd.    
  
Benny's could hold a couple hundred people comfortably, and looked to be near capacity. Garth's cover band screeched AC/DC on the small, luridly lit stage. Couples danced, mostly men paired off with men.  _ Back in Black _ started and Dean bopped his head to the beat. There were many familiar people among the dancers, sitting at the tables, or nursing drinks in clusters along the walls.   
  
Dean had blown many of these men, either that night or in the past. He could make some guesses who, recognized the regulars versus the first timers versus the sporadic drop ins. Usually he entertained himself trying to guess by voice and posture and package bulge who were "his" men but tonight he focused on the newbies. One of them was Jimmy, and Dean would have killed to know which.   
  
Dean had few clues to guide his search. Based on the hits on the dividing wall, Jimmy was tall. That described half the dudes in the place.  He had a deep voice, but that was no kind if hint; over the thump of Jo's bass drum and the shriek of the amps Dean couldn't hear himself think. Jimmy's cock was smooth, and his recovery time fricken super human, so he was probably young. Another useless hint; most of the folks there were young, college students from Kansas State or townies happy to blend in with the crowd.   
  
Easily a quarter or half the patrons fit the bill to be Jimmy, and so Dean let his preferences guide his search.   
  
_ Over there...tall and gangly...he's cute...he can bend me over the bar any time... _ _  
_ _  
_ _...or what about that old fat dude...no, no shot he's packing heat in those pants...not sure he's packing anything, but it's none of my fucking business... _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Oh, that guy grinding Crowley looks like my kind of twink power bottom. Even if he's not Jimmy I wouldn't mind a taste or five. _   
  
Crowley noticed Dean looking and scowled. Dean apologized with a sheepish grin and a half-shrug.    
  
Scanning, he ran through the candidates, ranking the most likely based on wishful thinking. Jimmy's voice and cock were already Dean's ideal. For the rest...he should be tall, and broad, strong enough that he could push Dean around, weak enough that Dean would never feel truly threatened. He should wear something skin tight, sport a piercing or two, and drive a motorcycle...or maybe a muscle car.   
  
Maybe Dean should poke his head into the parking lot. While he was fantasizing an ideal fuck buddy, he might as well pick an ideal vehicle, too.    
  
But he should eat first.   
  
No one in the place matched Dean's fantasies. The one person he thought might when he spotted them from the corner of his eye proved to be Alfie. Alfie was a sweet kid, and he had a great mouth, and Dean had zero interest in fucking him. Besides, Alfie was too slight by half to appeal to him, though the strobe lights and murky atmosphere obscured that from across the room. Alfie caught him looking and tipped a bottle toward him - of course, Alfie had been the tenor he'd blown, he should have realized. Only Benny and the other glory hole bottoms knew Dean was...Dean, and Alfie mouthed "thank you" for the service provided. To Dean's surprise, Alfie continued to hold eye contact, winked at Dean, and made gestures of farewell to his companions. He only looked away from Dean when he furtively ducked down the hallway to the bathroom.   
  
Fucking hell, Alfie was taking Dean's spot.    
  
And fine, okay, Dean had had a good night so far and Alfie deserved some jollies too, but if Jimmy returned for his fifth-times-the-charm and Dean wasn't there...unacceptable. Dean had to intervene. The glory hole was *his,* that night. Alfie could always take Saturday.   
  
"This seat taken?" A familiar voice froze Dean half risen from his stool. Heart beat suddenly too fast, Dean turned to get his first look at the body that accompanied that sinful bass.    
  
Aw  _ fuck _ .   
  
About Dean's height and equally broad shouldered, Jimmy had a mess of dark hair, full pink lips, tanned skin, and a piercing gaze. A loose button up shirt and the wished-for skin tight jeans completed a vision of perfection such as Dean hadn't dared dream of.   
  
"No," Dean croaked, turning to Jimmy.   
  
Jimmy's eyes went wide, the depths catching a flash of stage light and glowing incandescent blue. He gave Dean a long look up and down and broke into a dazzling smile.   
  
"Dean?" Jimmy breathed. He sounded and looked as awed as Dean felt.    
  
"Jimmy?"   
  
_ Woah, hold the phone, is it possible he likes what he sees when he looks at me as much as I like what I see when I look at him? _   
  
They stared at each other.   
  
"I'm sorry to break up this mutual appreciation society you got going on, but are you planning to eat this burger? I'm starved." A second male voice, identical to Jimmy's, spoke behind Dean. Dean gawked at Jimmy, who shrugged and gestured past Dean. Turning, Dean saw...   
  
...Jimmy...   
  
...again...   
  
...except the second Jimmy had even more disheveled hair, half inch gauges through each ear, and a tangle of tattoos, blurred meaningless in the dimness, on each bared arm.   
  
Twins.   
  
_ Identical _ twins.   
  
Identical twins who, between them, hit pretty much every one of Dean's kinks.   
  
_ If they've also got a muscle car I'll drop trow right at the center of fucking dance floor. _   
  
It was official. Dean was dead, this was heaven, and he had better make the most of it before St. Peter realized how bad he'd fucked up and hurled Dean down to the Pit where he belonged.    
  
Dean rounded back on the first Jimmy, stammering through attempts to demand an explanation.   
  
"I'm, uh, I'm not exactly Jimmy," confessed...not Jimmy.   
  
"I'm Jimmy," offered the tattooed twin. "And that's my brother Cas. See, bro? Told you we should get a bite to eat before going back for round 3."   
  
_...his brother said I gave good head...they compared notes on having sex with me... _   
  
Dean turned once more. Jimmy tore a bite from Dean's cheeseburger - usually a killing offense, if Sammy tried to steal Dean's burger the boy was dead meat - but Dean was too at sea to manage even a reprimand. The deliberately sinful noises and exaggerated faces of enjoyment that Jimmy made struck Dean dumb.   
  
"There are two of you," he finally managed.   
  
"There are two of us," confirmed Cas.   
  
"Hey, you can count!" Jimmy laughed. "Already one up on our last sandwich filling."   
  
Oh hell, please let that mean what Dean thought it meant. The twins were a sandwich he'd  _ love _ to be in the middle of. Dizzied, Dean turned again. Cas was eating his French fries, puckering his lips around each as though trying to coax an orgasm out of a Goddamn potato.   
  
"I am so fucked," Dean muttered.   
  
"See? Told you he was a bottom," crowed Jimmy.   
  
"You are very beautiful," Cas intoned with mock solemnity. "I would be honored to be the man 'so fucking' you." He grinned, as if he were joking. Maybe he was. Dean had never seen a more serious attempt at air quotes.   
  
Fuck, Dean hoped he wasn't joking. He looked from one brother to the other, mouth agape, cock hardening at the thought of getting one of those dicks in him.   
  
"Do I get to suck Jimmy down while you do?" he countered. The brothers exchanged amazed, pleased glances and broke into identical grins.    
  
Jimmy leaned forward and whispered in Dean's ear, "I'll do you one better. If you can get me off before Cassie finishes in that sweet ass of yours, I'll get on my knees for you. How'd you like to be the creamed on...creamed in?...filling, Dean?"   
  
Fuck if Dean had ever wanted anything more. Nodding vigorous approval, Dean was on his feet, car keys in hand, before either brother could say another word.   
  
Alfie could have the damn glory hole. Dean had better things to do with the rest of his night.   
  
"But you're paying for my burger!" he snapped, pointing an accusing finger at Jimmy as he took another bite before throwing the half-eaten sandwich back on the plate and hastily wiping his hands on his jeans. Son of a bitch didn't even look ashamed. They'd better leave Benny one hell of a tip.    
  
They didn't need to know that Dean's dinners were on the house in appreciation for the service he provided and the customers he attracted.   
  
"What, prostitution?" Cas laughed, but he appreciatively slapped 50 bucks on the counter. "You come cheap, sweet lips."   
  
"I never pretended I wasn't easy - but if you think you can get me to come in exchange for a hamburger, you've got another thing coming."   
  
"Sorry, that's...too many double entendres, you've lost me." Cas grinned.   
  
Jimmy grinned and stuck out his tongue.   
  
Jimmy had a tongue ring.   
  
What the hell had Dean been talking about?   
  
Fuck.   
  
It didn't matter.   
  
"Look, you assholes want a ride to my place or not?"   
  
Stepping up on Dean's right, Jimmy threw an arm around his shoulders. Cas flanked him and mirrored the gesture on his left.   
  
"You've already gotten us each off twice tonight," Jimmy murmured in his ear.   
  
"And we've only gotten you off once," Cas continued as if the brothers' shared a brain or some weird shit.   
  
"You think you can keep up with us, Dean?"   
  
"How many times do you think we can get you to come screaming before day break?"   
  
Dean had no idea, but he was desperate to find out. He steered their trio toward the door as the twins inundated him with filthy promises, each more delectable than the previous. There was a distinct possibility he'd cease to be able to walk before they reached his car.    
  
Thank God he'd brought the Impala instead of the shit but fuel efficient Toyota sedan he usually drove.   
  
The twins froze.   
  
"Dean, I truly think that tonight is the start of something beautiful," said Jimmy reverently.    
  
"Do you, now?" Standing before Baby's polished exterior, his swagger returned. The gorgeous perfect blow job twins had thrown him for a loop. They'd have thrown a damn saint for a loop. But they were acting like  _ Dean _ was a catch and it was damn time he start acting like one.   
  
"Oh, yeah...the first of many good nights together," said Cas.    
  
"I don't know about that," Dean scoffed. They looked at him in surprise. "I've been promised a record number of orgasms in exchange for my services, and my hamburger. If you two can't deliver..." He smiled and they broke into identical slow grins.   
  
"Oh, we can deliver."   
  
"Like Fedex."   
  
"We're gonna rock your world..."   
  
"...blow your mind..."   
  
"...hump your ass..."   
  
"That lacked a certain je ne sais quoi, brother."   
  
"But it's true, brother."   
  
"Fair - it  _ is _ true, brother."   
  
"Dean, are you ready?"   
  
"Yeah, Dean, you think you're up for this?"   
  
Dean deliberately stepped from between them, unlocked the driver's door, dropped into the seat and started the engine. It hummed to life, vibrating through him, and he leaned across the front seat to unlock the door.   
  
He'd never been more up for anything in his life.   
  
"Come on, assholes, let's go for a ride."   
  
And both brothers shimmied into the wide front bench seat.   
  
Cas had a hand on Dean's crotch before he'd finished pulling out of the parking lot.   
  
...yeah, they were going to blow his mind...and his cock...and his ass...and he was going to thank them for the privilege...beg them for the chance to have a second go, and a third, and a fourth...   
  
All he had to do was survive the drive home. Maybe, if things went really well, he'd never find himself kneeling at Benny's glory hole again.    
  
Cas undid his fly, leaned over, and using only his tongue, freed Dean's dick from his jeans.   
  
Dean, miraculously, did not rear end the car in front of him.   
  
He didn't  _ want _ to stop playing at Benny's. Maybe he could have the best of both worlds?  Work the glory hole whenever he wanted, with the promise that every third or fourth dick would be one of the twins. After all, they'd met him there. His hobby was no secret.   
  
... _ what if they think it's hot that I blow other dudes for fun? _   
  


Cas rolled a condom down his length. Raspberry scent wafted through the car.

  
"What's passing through that pretty head of yours?" teased Jimmy.    
  
... _ it'd be hot if they found it hot _ ...   
  
"Wouldn't you like to know."    
  
With Cas' tongue teasing at the slit of his it was impossible to talk steadily but he managed to pretend to calmness.   
  
"My brother gives damn good head, he'll be sad to see you so distracted."   
  
Cas hummed agreement.   
  
Dean groaned.   
  
If he wasn't already dead they were definitely going to kill him.   
  
And Dean couldn't think of a better way to go.   
  
"I'm thinkin' I hope this isn't just a one night stand," Dean managed.   
  
"Hey, read my mind! I was hoping that too!" Jimmy beamed.   
  
Cas deep throated him like a Goddamn pro. While they were driving 50 fucking miles per hour.   
  
That, Dean supposed, was agreement.   
  
Well, he wasn't stressed about his job any longer.   
  
If he could keep blowing the twins on the regular, and if the twins made good on their many promises, Dean suspected he'd never be stressed again.    
  
"Don't worry, Dean. We share very well, don't we, Cas?"   
  
Cas hummed guttural agreement and with a moan, Dean jerked the car into the shoulder, slammed the brakes, and splattered come down the back of Cas' throat.   
  
"Oh, me next!" said Jimmy. Dean had no idea which sex act Jimmy wanted replicated, but he supposed it didn't matter, because Dean was there like white on rice for anything the twins wanted to try.   
  
"Let me catch my breath, brother," Cas said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sat up.   
  
The twins who wanted to fuck Dean...also happily fucked each other.   
  
Yeah, Dean had died and for his sins he'd been reincarnated into a porno and, well...   
  
Fuck.   
  
Yeah.   
  
Glory, glory, fricken  _ hallelujah _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at [@unforth-ninawaters](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com).


End file.
